


Prisoner of War

by Emmyxx



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Anya Lives, Badass Clarke, F/F, Grounder Clarke, Kidnapped, Stolen, Taken, anya steals clarke, bad ass anya, forced to be a healer, grounders, prisoner
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-23
Updated: 2016-05-25
Packaged: 2018-04-27 19:18:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,011
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5060827
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emmyxx/pseuds/Emmyxx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What if Clarke had saved Tris that fatefully night in woods? What if Anya had taken her as her village's healer?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So I wanted to write a Anya/Clarke story for a while and here it is let me know what you think! Feel free to check out my other stories!

Chapter 1

Tris was breathing.

Deep, painless breaths were coming from her as she slept in the corner. Already Clarke could see the colour coming back her face. She turned towards Anya and her guards and watched as she motioned for one of them to take Finn away.

“No.” She yelled reaching out for him. 

The other guard held her arms back and she fought against them to get to Finn. She turned to Anya.

“You said if I saved her he would live.” Clarke spat at her from where she stood.

“And he will live.”

She watched as Anya turned to leave the room, she made to go after her, but felt a tight grip on her hand that threw her back into the room. 

Clarke turned her attention back to the little girl at this point. She walked towards her and checked her pulse again, checking that she was still breathing. She had placed a cool rag on her forehead to try and bring down the fever that she was currently fighting.

She feels the guard come up behind her at that point. She looks towards the side of Tris’s small body and reached for the scalpel that she had used just moments before Finn had been dragged away.

Clarke made a grab for him. The scalpel was tight in her sweaty wrist; she went to swipe at his neck, but promptly missed. He grabbed her by one of her arms and she let out a painful hiss. She was about to reach down and try and swipe his neck when she felt a hand wrap around her wrist. She turned round quickly, but she fell to the floor before she even had time to react. 

Clarke managed to slice the scalpel through the lower part of her leg. She heard Anya let out a growl, and Clarke had to bit back the smirk that threatened to spill across her face. Anya retaliated quicker than Clarke expected as the women tackled her, straddling her hips, keeping Clarke captive underneath her. She fought against her hard, but it didn’t even seem to make a difference at all. Finally impatient, she slashed her hand across the women’s cheek hoping to startle her to release her hold on Clarke. It was successful to some extent, the blade quickly made contact with the skin on her cheek, leaving a large gash upon it. However it only seemed to make her angrier. 

Anya flung the scalpel from her hand and glared down at the girl with a venomous look upon her face.

“You’ll regret that sky girl.” She grunted out as she swiped away the blood dripping down her cheek.

Anya turned back towards the warrior that Clarke had tried to kill, telling him orders in the Grounders language. Clarke shifted underneath her trying to get Anya’s heavy body off of her. She struggled hard against her; she was panting hard, her body struggling to inhale air.

Anya reached for her hands roughly, yanking them down in front of her face. The other warrior handed her chains to Clarke’s horror. Clarke tried even harder, pulling her hands away, but with Anya’s strength she had no choice. She could only watch as the metal clamped around her wrists. She winced as it dug into her skin. 

“I done what you asked of me, now let me go back to my people.” Clarke tried once again to reason with her. 

Anya got off her and pulled her so sharply to her feet that threw her off balance. The chains rattled in her hands as she glared sharply at Clarke.

“Soon enough you will have no one to return to.” With that said, she nodded towards the other warrior who went to lift up Tris. The girl moaned quietly at the contact.

“You will return to my village, and work as our healer.” Anya told her pulling the chains sharply, Clarke glared at her, feeling the ache in her wrists.

“I will do no such thing.” Clarke replied instantly. “Let me go to my people.”

Anya ignored her and turned her attention back to Tris giving her two guards orders. She handed the chains over to one of her guards and walked out first. Clarke refused to do this, she had to go back to her people; she had to warn them. She resisted the sharp tug at first and started moving backwards, clenching her lip at the ripping of the skin at her wrists. The second tug made her go flying towards the floor. Clarke’s head hit the floor instantly with a hard crack. It was then her world went black.

 

She must have blacked out for a few minutes, because when she wakes, she’s moving. There’s darkness around her, moving tree’s that make her feel ill. She can feel herself moving. She looks around and see’s the horse first of all. It’s huge and she’s sitting on it. She see’s the hand that is wrapped around the reins, the other that’s holding her body on the horse. She feels the closeness of another body behind her. Somehow Clarke knew straight away it was Anya. She looked across and saw Tris and two other warriors riding behind her. Clarke tried to stay calm, but at this point she found the thought of escape impossible.

The arm at her waist tightened. Clarke thought down the urge to struggle knowing that it could be useless. She wondered where Finn was? Had Anya killed him?  
Her head throbbed and she let herself once again be lead into the darkness.

 

When she woke again, her surronding’s had changed. Clarke opened her eyes with a groan and found herself lying on the grass. She slowly sat up assessing where she was. She mentally groaned when she saw the chains still clamped around her wrists. Clarke could hardly feel the pain of it anymore. It felt as if it was joining to her skin. She shook of the thought quickly and looked around. Across from her was Anya, sitting near the fire. Clarke stumbled to her feet and moved as far away from her as her chains allowed. Anya raised an eyebrow but said nothing. 

There were two large tents set up. The horses had been tied to some sort of make shift post, as had her chains been. She wondered where Tris was as well as the other warriors, but she didn’t ask. Instead she just turned away and looked out towards the forest. Clarke bit her lip looking out into the darkness; she didn’t want to overthink since her head was still throbbing terrible. 

Clarke crouched down near a rock and made herself as comfortable as she could and lay against it the coolness easing her aching skin. She shuffled and turned and watched Anya by the fire, refusing to meet her eyes. She thought about Finn.

But she stopped herself before she got upset. She couldn’t show weakness to them, especially not to Anya, what she had to do was to escape. 

She shifts and closes her eyes, praying for a miracle.

 

When she wakes, it’s to someone roughly shaking her by the shoulder. Clarke felt as if she had just closed her eyes, mere minutes ago, but it was still dark though. The torches were still lit and the fire was still going. 

The only difference was Anya was no longer their, instead she was in front of Clarke, hand on her shoulder. Clarke blinked wearily at her and met stormy eyes, the other hand gripped her other shoulder and she was on her feet shakily. Anya’s hand was tight against her shoulder as she led her forward.

“Tris has a high fever again, you will heal her.” Anya tells her pulling her towards one of the tents.

Clarke pulled against her tiredly. “I won’t.”

“You don’t have a hostage now, Anya.” Clarke spat acidly at her, pulling against her restraints.

Clarke hissed as she was shoved inside the tent. Anya was being brutal with her. She didn’t think that she would last long in her company.

“You should of never have moved her in the first place.” Clarke told her icily. “She’s a sick child.”

“My second comes with me.” Anya tells her. “Now heal her.”

“I can’t.” Clarke protests to her, looking at a sickly Tris on the bed.

“You can’t or you won’t?” Anya pressed venomously at her.

“Both.” She replied. “The more you move her, the more likely she is to get sick. I’ll help her and she’ll become ill again.”

Clarke ignored Anya and walked towards Tris. She looked at the girl and her conscious ate away at her, because Anya’s previous words had stayed with her. She had been the one to hurt this girl. Clarke had given that order.

She raised a hand to touch the girl’s warm forehead. She whimpered when Clarke’s hand made contact with it. Anya gripped both Clarke’s hands in her hands and opened her shackles and Clarke swore the minute they fell from her skin. She looked at the bruised and peeling flesh on her wrists. 

“Heal her or I’ll make you.” 

“I healed her once.” Clarke replied quickly. “Why should I do it again?”

“Because your people will die if you do not, Sky girl.” Anya looked down on her.

Clarke let out a bitter laugh as she dropped her hand from Tris’s forehead. She choose to ignore the comment and refocused on Tris, she wanted nothing more to ignore her and not help her, but she could see that she was suffering.

“I need water, and herbs to make tea for her. She needs rest; you can’t move her for a few days. She’s still recovering.” Clarke demanded as she turned towards the little girl.

Clarke listened to the footsteps leave, but not before she herd something being told to the guard. She gingerly sat on the bed that Tris was placed on, mentally tired. She reached for the bowl of water on one side of the tent and began pulled a small strip of her shirt away. She was going to have to make do with what she had.

She soaked the rag in water and placed it on Tris’s forehead, she heard the girl sigh in relief. 

“Your ok.” She told Tris gently. “You’ll be ok.”

She didn’t know how long she sat as she watched Tris. The soft breaths she took. Clarke had taken her pulse as well. She was still struggling to breath, but Clarke knew that was down to the bomb and her fever. She had a horrible feeling that she would be up all night watching the girl.

Her head was becoming worse, she couldn’t even remember the last time she had eaten or drank and her wrists were red. She was exhausted.

But for some reason Tris was important to Anya. 

The footsteps startled her out of her trance as she saw Anya re-enter the room. She held in her hand the seaweed and a bowl of water. Clarke walked towards her and took the seaweed and water, quickly putting them together in a cup. 

“She needs to drink this, it should help.” Clarke told her as she leaned over Tris.

She was about to tip the tea into Tris’s mouth when a hand reached out and grabbed hers.

“I will give her it. You will rest now.” Anya’s voice was cool and collected as she took the cup from Clarke.

“I’m fine.” Clarke replied as she checked Tris’s fever once again. 

“You will rest. I need you alive.” Anya’s voice told her strictly as she began to give Tris the tea.

“What I need is to go back to my people.” Clarke told her snappily.

Tris coughed lightly but Anya continued getting her to drink the seaweed tea.

Anya barely looked at her. “I will tend to her.”

Clarke swung her head around to face Anya. “You wanted me to heal her, so I will.”

Anya said nothing, as she leaned down and held Tris’s head to make her drink the tea. Clarke watched on as Tris coughed and splattered, but Anya held her down until she drank it all. Clarke watched the way that Anya touched Tris she was gentle almost.

Clarke knew that this was someone Anya cared about deeply.

“Sit, sky girl.” Anya told her without looking at her. “You will stay.”

Clarke wanted to argue, but she was too tired too. She was emotionally drained and somehow manage to find a spot in the corner near Tris’s bed that was comfortable. A lot more so than what Clarke had been leaning against the rock. She looked and her wrists, and bit her lip to stop herself from almost crying out at the pain of them.

“Where’s Finn?” Clarke managed to get out, trying to sound as strong as possible.

“He’s not your concern anymore, Clarke.” Anya answered again, her concentration remaining on Tris.

“Did you kill him?” Clarke tried again knowing that she needed answers.

“Enough.” Anya’s voice was stern as she looked up from where she was tending to Tris.

She dropped the rag into a bowl of water as she made her way towards Clarke. Clarke didn’t even move, too tired to fight anymore. Anya kneeled down directly across from her and Clarke looked at her through glazed eyes. Anya reached for her hands and Clarke hissed when she ran her fingers over the wounds. Anya dropped them and studied Clarke closely before she spoke.

“I will watch Tris.” She states formally. “You will rest.”

Anya stands and looks towards the other bed on the opposite side of the room. Clarke presumed it was Anya’s. Clarke shakily makes her way to her feet.

“I’ll sleep outside.” Clarke mumbles ignoring Anya’s look.

Anya makes a noise before walking towards the bed and uncovering the fur belts away. She walks towards Clarke.

“Stop questioning me. I need you alive. You will rest and I will know if you try anything. I will be watching you.” Anya told her menacingly.

Clarke was about to protest when Anya gave her a deadly look, so instead she found her way towards the bed and removed her shoes and jacket. Placing them on the floor, trying to ignore the prying eyes upon her. She slid underneath the pelts and almost let out a content sigh at the feeling of being in a proper bed. The softness of it and the sent surrounding in it. Seconds after her head hits the pillow, she was asleep.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clarke makes a escape attempt...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've very busy at the moment, with work and uni and I have 2 other fanfics that need updating so bear with me!

Chapter 2

 

Clarke wakes to the feeling of eyes on her. She can’t see them, but she feels them from where she lies, cocooned in blankets, that protect her from her reality. She had dreamed of the Ark and her mum. Her dad was there too, but now they were gone and Clarke had once again been returned to being a prisoner. A prisoner; who would have to escape very soon. She didn’t know how long she had to return to her camp before they attacked them, she had to get back as soon as she could.

Clarke tried to level out her breathing to give the illusion that she was still asleep, she wasen’t ready to going back to being prisoner just yet. Clarke couldn’t help but wonder why Anya had allowed her a bed, but she was not complaining. It was the comfiest thing Clarke had slept on in a while.

“Enough.” Clarke froze at Anya’s voice knowing she had been caught.

“I need her alive.” Anya hissed. “What good is she to me dead?”

It was then that Clarke noticed that she was speaking to someone else and they were in fact speaking English. Clarke tried to be as still as possible.

“But General…once you attack what will you do with her?” A voice called out.

“She will remain with us, she will become our healer, another of my warriors. Once we have attacked the sky people, she will have no where else to go.” Anya told him harshly.

Clarke had to bite her lip for her not to say anything else.

“Yes, Anya.”

There was movement and after a minute, Clarke moved her head from underneath the pelts and once she saw that the room was empty, apart from Tris who was asleep, she stood from the bed and began looking around the room as quietly as possible. She glanced at Tris who seemed to be in a deep sleep, but Clarke couldn’t be certain. Clarke grinned in victory when she found a dull edged knife. She shoved it down inside her boot, ignoring the way that it cut into her skin. 

Curiously, she went towards Tris. She still felt guilt at the fact that she had caused this, but her priority would have to be able to get back to her people. If she didn’t escape soon she would be stuck in one of the Grounder villages and then her chance of escaping would be even smaller. She needed a plan, but Clarke knew there were at least four of them in total. Anya was going to be the one that caused the most problems. 

Clarke leaned over Tris and placed her hand on her head. She was still feverish, but she looked better and it looked as if her temperature had came down slightly.

She heard the footsteps behind her, but didn’t acknowledge them until one of the large grounders stood in front of her. He yanked out Clarke’s wrists which she hissed painfully at and clamped down the cold metal around them. Clarke glared up at him angrily.

“Generals orders.” He grunted out under his breath. “Come.”

Clarke had no option but to follow as he led her out of the tent, Clarke was led back the post and she had to fight down the need to flee right there and then. She had to wait till they let down there guard though. The grounder tied the chains back up and walked away. Clarke tested out her binds seeing how far she could go. Finally she sat on the ground, the earth was wet underneath her.

Clarke knew that she had to try and get away at some point, she had to warn her people, she could only delay them with Tris’s illness for so long, they had to run get away. Somehow she needed to get a message of some sort; that is if the Grounders don’t kill her first. Clarke hadn’t had food in at least two days and she found herself growing weary at the lack of water. If they wanted her alive, then they would have to feed her soon.

She tugged on the chains again experimentally. There was no way she could try anything with them still on. Clarke turned her gaze towards the other direction and tried to work out how far that they had travelled, but she couldn’t work it out. 

Anya appeared at that moment coming out of the tent, she called out to her warriors something in her language and they all began to move immediantly. Anya’s eyes sharpened on her form, before she retreated back inside the luxury of her tent. Clarke watched curiously as the warriors picked up their spears and begin to depart, Clarke couldn’t help but grin at her luck. But she still had the problem of her chains. She stood lightly, not wanting to make more noise than necessary and looked at what her chains were wrapped around on. Hurriedly, her eyes darted back and forth as she tried to untie them from the pole. Clarke knew that this was practically her only chance. If they got her back to there camp, she would never be able to escape.

She tried to be quiet, but she was getting excited as she unwound the chains. Surely she would still have them around her wrists but she would be free. Finally they fell slack. Clarke grinned triumphly as she gathered the chain in her hands and started to move in the opposite direction.

Then she broke into a run, clutching the chains tightly to her so that she didn’t make any noise. She had to be quiet, Anya would notice her soon, and then they would probably kill her. Clarke had to get away as far as possible, and then find shelter when they came to look for her.

Eventually after what seemed like a long time of running. She began to hear the footsteps and the shouting and she quickened her pace until she found a very small cave that she managed to squeeze into to hide herself. Clarke could hear them move about rustling in the trees, her throat was raw and she was panting hard. 

Before she knew it, her world completely disappeared.

She was running again. When Clarke woke later at night fall, she knew that she would be safer travelling after several hours of searching for her. The weight of the chains was slowing her down and her hands were in a lot of pain. She had managed to find some berries that had soothed her hunger slightly. Clarke knew that she had no idea where she was going, but she had to find a way back to her camp, but she needed to find water as well. 

“I’m coming.” She whispered as she darted through the night, scanning carefully for noises.

She picked up again after hearing nothing, running through the woods. It would have been a beautiful sight had it not been that she was running for her life. Clarke needed to save her people, she wouldn’t let them be slaughtered. There had to be a way for them to live peacefully together.

She felt her feet hit something and cursed when she noticed what is was knowing that now she was doomed. Her people were doomed, seconds later she was thrown into the air in some sort of trap either designed for her or an animal. She knew it was a matter of time before they discovered and killed her.

Clarke could feel the blood rushing to her heads as her chains dropped violently on weighting down her body enough more. She held her breath when she saw movement. A grounder immerged slowly and she knew it was over. His mask remained in place as he looked up at her curiously. Resignation clouded his eyes before he tore his mask off.

“Clarke?” A familiar voice called out quietly.

“Lincoln.” She said in relief. “Can you get me down? Before they come?”

He said nothing as he looked around at the rope searching for a way to get her safely down.

“You have to go to my camp.” Clarke tells him urgently. “Anya will strike as soon as her second is well, I’ve been delaying her as long as I can, but she’ll come soon. You have to take us some place safe.”

“There is a clan in the North, their leader goes by the name of Luna. She will accept you.” Lincoln says as he pulls out a knife.

Carefully he saws at the rope slowly at first and then Clarke falls to the ground with a thump, she struggles to get herself up. Instantly Lincoln becomes stiff and its then that Clarke hears the sounds.

“Go.” She hisses. “Go now.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clarke discovers the fate of her people...

Chapter 3

There moving at this point running through the trees with Lincoln leading them. She can hear the shouts and movements that are close behind them. Clarke trips on a large log and her chains pull her down to a thud she can see Lincoln slightly ahead of her as he haults.

“Go.” She shouts to him. “Take my people to safety.”

Lincoln hesitates and reaches down towards her, but Clarke can hear Anya as one of the warriors falls at her foot.

“Go” She screams one last time and this time he goes, disappearing into the tress as she leaves.

She can fell the blood from her side now, its leaking out coating the earth and Clarke knows it wont be long before she dies from it. She knew that she had injured herself when she had fallen, but she had rarely felt it from the adrenaline, but now she would fell it. She was tacked around her front roughly, she bit her lip from biting out a scream when she saw that Anya and her warriors had found her. Clarke’s hands instantly went to her side as Anya got off her horse and spoke to one of her warriors. 

Clarke hissed as she was pushed down further into the ground. Her wound throbbing painfully as Clarke dropped her hands from it. The blood barely visible in the dark. Anya moved away and neared her now. She knelt down towards her and before Clarke could really understand, she was slapped harshly across the face. She turned her head to glare and Anya. 

“You’re making it very difficult for me not to kill you.” She snarled and pulled Clarke up by her arm.

She shouted something in her language and Clarke found herself leaning fully against Anya, the mental strain was beginning to take its toll on her body. Anya had looked at her noticing the difference quickly. She began to speak fast and the heavy chains from her arms were removed. Clarke’s blistering skin made her stomach lurch violently.

“Get her back to camp.” She called to the nearest warrior. Her body was thrown against one of the warriors and Clarke was practically dragged back to camp. Her injury throbbing painfully. 

Clarke lost track of how long it took them, but she was fading in and out consciousness. When she woke they were entering a tent and Clarke had been thrown over someone’s shoulder. She was placed roughly on the bed. Clarke recognized Tris hovering over her.

She was searching Clarke and speaking to Anya and Clarke knew that Tris should still be in bed. Her fever was high. There was a hand on her head and Anya pulled out a knife and Clarke tried to pull back, but Tris held on of her arms down and Anya’s blade sliced through Clarke’s shirt, much to Clarke’s mortification. Tris’s small hands reached down to her side and Clarke hissed.

“You need to put pressure on it.” Clarke manages to wheeze out. “It needs stitches I can do it.”

“Stupid girl.” Anya rages. “I grow tired of your attempts to defy me. Tris, fix her, call me once you've healed her.”

She turns once more towards Clarke. “Don’t overestimate how much your life is worth girl, the next time I will not hesitate to put my blade through you.”

Then she was gone and Clarke had to coax the sickly looking Tris through the process of how go patch her wounds. Finally once Tris had managed to give her a decent stitch, Clarke ordered her back to rest, firmly.

“Her anger is true.” Tris tells her quietly. “Try not to worsen it, Clarke.”

Tris called something out in her own language before returning to her bed directly across from Clarke, however Clarke was too far gone to notice.

 

The next few days where blurry to Clarke, she hardly ever woke, there were flashes but nothing solid. She could remember been giving something and moving fast, but that was all she could seem to recall.

Clarke didn't know how long it had been when she finally re-opened her eyes properly. Her wound was wrapped up tightly and her hands were unbound. But she panicked when she realized that she had no clue where so was, instead of the temporary make shift tent she was used to. She woke up to find herself in some sort of tent/house. She was lying on a bed, it was warm and the pelts that surrounded her provided little comfort to Clarke. She winced as she felt her injury and sucked in a sharp breath of air and immediately moved away her hand from it. 

“Stay down, Sky girl.” Someone grunted and Clarke immediately stiffened and turned to look towards the large grounder taking up residence in the corner.

“Where am I?” Clarke questioned looking around. “Where are my people?”

He grunted. “Dead most likely, girl.” 

Clarke recalled what she had told Lincoln and she cant help but think that there is a slight possibility that her people may have actually managed to get away under his guidance and leadership. He would help them and take them to safety.

Clarke gazed and her wrapped injury and pushed herself forward, gasping but managed to push herself forward until she landed on her feet, however her feet struggled underneath her due to many days of not walking and she found herself failing.

“Stupid girl.” He muttered under his breath as Clarke tried to breath through the pain.

“Clarke!” A familiar voice called out and suddenly there was someone by her side.

“Tris.” Clarke said smiling weakly at her. She looked much better than what she had the last time Clarke had seen her.

Tris raised one of Clarke’s arms around her shoulder and gently and slowly guided her to her feet, and Clarke managed to gently pull herself up onto the bed, looking over and Tris. She wheezed deeply. 

Tris looked over at the man and spoke in rapid fire at him in a different language that Clarke couldn’t understand properly. She began to speak louder much to Clarke’s annoyance, when suddenly he was closer to them and Clarke didn’t like how close he was. He towered over Tris and Clarke didn’t know why but she felt a tiny bit protective over her, maybe it was because she had saved her life not that long ago, or maybe because she was a child or just plain guilt, but either Clarke wouldn’t let anyone be spoken to like how he was speaking to Tris.

Clarke, much slower this time, managed to regain her balance and look at the two, as Tris argued back harshly.

“Where is Anya?” Clarke questioned looking between the two of them.

“The general is busy.” Tris replied her eyes still trained on the other grounder.

“Busy?” He sneered. “Is that she’s saying?”

“More than you anyway.” Tris replied off handly and Clarke couldn't help but admire the girls bravery. 

“Watch your tongue. You may be Anya’s second, but that means nothing to me, little branwada.”

Tris replied to something swiftly and Clarke acted before she could think and swiftly grabbed Tris by the arm and threw the smaller girl behind her as the other warrior practically went to seize her, but Clarke shielded her.

“Move, that goufa needs to learn how to respect her elders.” 

“Perhaps it is you that needs to take lesson from the skai girl and thr goufa, since you seem to question my decisions.” A condescending yet, familiar voice called out.  


“General. I meant no such thing.” He stated staring at Clarke. Tris push past her and walked towards Anya, like she was biting back a smile. She told the girl something and she was off.  


“Leave us.” Anya told him.

Clarke watched as he dragged his eyes away from hers and left the room, behind were Anya stood watching what had just occurred.

“Your injury should be healed in time, if you ever try anything like that again however. I will kill you myself. I am allowing you to live, to stay here and become our healer. It is an honour amongst my people.” Anya explained moving away from where she was standing and towards Clarke.

“I’m sure it’s a great honour, but I have to return to my people.” Clarke pointed out trying not to sound snarly.

“Your people are gone Clarke.” Anya states bluntly. “There is no where else to go.”

She feels herself go cold. “You can’t keep me here.”

Anya grins. “I can and I will. You’ll stay here and work here and perhaps in time, you’ll like it here.”

“Never.” Clarke swore. “I'm not being your healer.”

“You already are. You saved Tris already.” Anya pointed out the obvious.

“Because you gave me no choice!” Clarke exclaimed arguably. 

“This is your life now Clarke, rest for a while longer and I’ll have food brought to you. Tomorrow at sunrise you will start attending to my warriors.” Anya ignored her complaints.

“Anya.” Clarke stated firmly. “You should have let me die, because I'm not going to help the people that slaughtered mine.”

“You have no choice, there are guards outside the door, don’t do anything stupid, sky girl.” 

With that Anya span around and was gone as quickly as she had come. Clarke once again was left in am impossible situation, she couldn’t help but wonder if what Anya was saying was true? Or had Lincoln been able to get her people to safety? She needed to know more, Anya had to been too vague, perhaps there was a way for her to find Luna’s clan? They could take her in as well, but this required leaving Anya’s village and there was little chance of her being able to do that. But there was no way she could submit and stay here, but it was her only option, Clarke would have to gain her trust. Instead she turned her attention to her injury and began to inspect it carefully, making sure it should look as it did. It was healing well much to her disadvantage. Whoever had patched her up had done a good job.

She eased herself up onto the bed and signed.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clarke helps a new life enter the world and meets so new faces.

Chapter 4 

A few hours later, Clarke was roughly escorted to the healers tent, against her wishes. She couldn’t help but notice the glares and stares that she was getting and this was the first proper look that she had at Anya’s village. It was larger than she expected. There was a mass of wooden buildings as well as tents laid out neatly. It was defiantly not what she expected it to be. They were children too, they hid behind their mothers, staring and looking at Clarke like she was some sort of magical being. 

Clarke bit back her tongue at being paraded in front of Anya’s people. She was their capture, there prisoner, being brought forth to them. Clarke kept her head up and proud, she wouldn’t let them show that it affected her, but it really did. Clarke caught Tris’s eyes as she was shoved forward, towards one the largest huts. The people gathered around them, and Clarke felt as if she was being marched to her own execution, which might have been slightly better than what she was currently facing. She was a prisoner of war. 

Anya was watching her, she was not in plain sight but Clarke felt her presence, felt that she was near by, waiting to strike her down. But she never appeared, instead she was led into a hut away from piercing eyes. One of the guards removed her shackles and they moved to stand towards the door of the hut. Clarke rubbed her wrists and looked around. 

It looked like a simple version of a hospital, several beds lay, maybe eight or nine with furs on them, there was cabinets and herbs that had been laid out among them. Clarke tried not to stare at in awe; it was like a proper hospital.

She walked further into the hut and saw two people lay in the beds, both warily watching her as she looked around. One was a man, while a panting women lay glaring at her. 

“There are tools by the cabinet that you will need.” One of her guards called out and Clarke walked towards them, studying them and finally she picked up a scalpel, it was blunt but it would do. She wondered if she would have the opportunity to use it.

“That is Osla.” A new voice called out and Clarke spun around to see a younger women, pointing to the women in the bed.

“Who are you?” Clarke spun around quickly, tightening her hand on the scalpel.

“I was the apprentice healer, to my mentor before he was killed. My name is Mania. I’ve tried my best to look after Osla and Trent. I am glad you are here Clarke of the sky people.” The women, Mania told her looking at her expectedly.

“What’s wrong with them?” 

“Osla is in labour, has been most of the night, this is her fifth child. I have never birthed a child so I don’t know much of it and Trent has been recovering from injuries, but requires attention. “

The women walked towards Osla and pulled off the furs and ignored the completely naked women as she let out a cry and touched her belly.

“You’ll deliver this child.” Clarke spun around at that and stared at her.

“I will not. I’m not here to be a healer.” Clarke insisted and turned away from them both, she had absolutely no experience dealing with childbirth. She had saw one, but never actually helped birth a baby.

“It is Onya’s wish that you do this. You must prove your worth and gift me with your knowledge of healing, Klark.” Mania replied, looking down at the sweating women as she let out a cry.

“Then Anya is wrong, I do not have to do anything.” Clarke insisted, crossing her hands over her chest.

“Even if you caused this Sky girl? Your bomb caused this, for her to birth her babe nearly a moon early. Will you not take responsibility for your actions, like a true leader would?” Mania insisted angrily, standing from Osla and walking towards Clarke.

“She should have never of been in battle in the first place if she was pregnant. I will not be held responsible for this.” Clarke hissed angrily at her, not looking away.

“It is our way. Speak your words with care girl, because you could be dead like the rest of your miserable sky people, but Onya deemed you worthy enough to live. You should be honoured by that alone.”

“Honoured?” Clarke spat out. “She slattered all of my people and took me as her prisioner. Please consider me honoured to be of some worth to her.”

“Enough.” Mania told her strongly. “For now we must help Osla deliever her child then we will speak more of this.”

Clarke was looking at the expecting mother and knew she looked ready to push, she was covered in sweat and wore a look of pure agony. Mania gazed down at her and spoke to her in there language, glancing to and from Clarke. The women replied nodding and opened her legs wide.

“No.” Clarke swallowed determinedly, trying to ignore the women’s gasps of pain.

Mania spun around towards her and before she stomps towards Clarke, fire raging in her eyes and she grasped Clarke by both her arms harshly.

“Wake up, you branwada! This is your chance to a life, to have a life. If you refuse this, you will be killed. Onya rarely has mercy which means she saw something in you girl. The death of an enemy is a painful and horrid experience, Klark. Think very carefully about the path you will chose, girl.” Mania hissed, shaking her sharply.

“Onya very rarely gives second chances and from what I’ve heard you’ve had your fair share of them.”

“No.” Clarke replied automatically. “I won’t betray my people by fratronising with the enemy.”

Mania let her go and turned to let her attention to Osla, but she gave Clarke a stern glare before turning towards the laboring women. It was the one thing Clarke had noticed about these people, they tried not to show any pain.

Clarke had only ever saw two children born on the Ark and she had never actually taken part in it, she had observed as part of her training, it was something she had never had the chance to do since landing on the ground, she turned towards the other Grounder in the bed who was watching her carefully. Clarke made a look observation of his injuries; dislocated shoulder, deep cut that would need stitches, possible concussion and a broken or fractured wrist from the look of it. 

“Are you finished, Sky branwada?” Clarke knew she had to find out what that meant.

She snapped out of her doctor mode and gazed at the man, he was young, but slightly older than her, he had a long strand of tattoos that wound up towards his shoulder. Clarke’s eyes instantly snapped in recognition. She turned and went towards the tools, gathering the items that she would need as well as a bowl of water and a rag. She placed the scalpel up her jacket, securing it easily, away from prying eyes. After noticing that she had no alcohol, she knew that water would have to do. Clarke cautiously seated herself on a chair nearby and lay her supplies on the bed.

“You refuse to help a women with a babe, yet you help me, why?” He snarled quietly, watching as she set out her items.

“You have a dislocated shoulder.” Clarke stated ignoring him. “Your arm needs stitches and you’ve injured your wrist. I can set your shoulder, but it’ll hurt.”

“I did not fear your people, nor will I fear pain.” The warrior told her with a glint in his eyes.

“Lay back.” Clarke instructed moving away one of the pillows, as she continued to ignore Osla’s moans.

He did as instructed and Clarke made a move to grip his arm and take hold of his shoulder. Gently she tightened her grip on his shoulder and seconds later, she forcefully pushed it back into place, she saw the pain on his face. Clarke checked over his shoulder and returned to her seat, near the bed.

“I’ll make you a sling.” Clarke states. “You’ll have to wear it for at least a week.”

“Help Osla.” He stated through gritted teeth glaring at her.

Clarke shook her head and reached to examine his wrist.

“I heard you, so why help me.”

Clarke leaned closer down into him, until she was certain no one could hear her voice.

“My people.” Clarke stated. “You were there after I was captured, after Lincoln ran.”

He smiled at her and tugged on her wrist, holding her in place.

“Yes, and he paid for it, as did your people. There all gone now, sky girl.”

Clarke pulled back and reached for bandages and handed him the sling which he put on without difficulty as Clarke reached out and began to examine his injured wrist. He pulled back straight away.

“Help her, show us that your not just death and destruction. Anya saw something in you, do not let her faith be misplaced.”

Clarke pulled away from him and turned towards the labouring Osla as well as Trent and looked towards Mania. 

“I’ll do what I can.”

 

The next few hours were the hardest of Clarke’s life. She and Mania helped Osla slowly birth her fifth child into the world. There was little pain relief, and Clarke still had little knowledge of what she was actually doing, apart from getting the women to push, but somehow the two women managed. It was a long and intense labour and Clarke would feel the sweat pouring off of her. But thankfully there were not complications and eventually Osla’s baby son was born, a son she named Kova.

Clarke cradled in the tiny baby in her arms as she wrapped the baby in a warm fur, and watched as Mania cleaned up Osla. Clarke watched the baby with conflicting emotions, before she quickly handed Kova back to his mother, eager to get the blood and fluid off her. 

“Mochof.” It was quiet, but Clarke heard the words of the women.

“Anya will be pleased, sky girl.” Trent called out loudly, startling her.

Clarke threw the rag down harshly and made towards the door of the hut, before Mania had a chance to stop her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed, hopefully will have the next update soon.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tris and Clarke talk and an altercation occurs.

Chapter 5

Clarke was met by Tris when she finally exited the tent. She nearly walked straight into several Grounders, who were practically queuing to get inside the tent, she could hear the wails of the child and there were several excited looking faces, however it only made Clarke wince even more.

She had betrayed her people and bent to the will of her enemy.

It made Clarke rage. There was a storm happening inside of her and she could nothing to put it out. She had to find out what had happened to her people.

There might still be a chance that they had made it to safety; Anya could easily be lying to her. She was her capturer after all.

Lincoln could have got to them in time, it was still a possibility and she had to try and escape and find her people. It would be hard, especially with having eyes on her constantly, she would have to wait a while, so there was less suspicious but as soon as she had her chance, she would take it.

Clarke refused to be there prisoner and help them, she had to find her people.

Tris was smiling at her gently almost as if she was proud of Clarke and it was just another stab to the heart.

How on earth could she ever be angry at Tris?

“You should eat.” Tris states as they enter the hut.

There are more furs inside the tent. It’s warmer to; with a fire and for the first time Clarke realizes how long she’s actually been gone. It must have been a few hours; it looked as if it was early evening. There’s a tray of dried meats and a jug of something sitting near the bed of furs.

“I’m fine, but thank you.” She smiled gratefully at Tris and walked towards where the jug sat.

Clarke reached for it and a wooden bowl, she poured the water into it and shoved her hands into, watching the water, and the blood mix and become one. She quickly washed it all off and turned towards Tris who was standing watching her wearily. Clarke took a seat on the bed of furs and smiled at her.

She found herself looking at Tris. Really looking at her, she was young. Too young to be fighting, too young to have as much a burden on her shoulders as what she does and she grows even more angry at Anya when she looks at the girl. Her features have been hardened by battle and war. Then it hits her.  


She knows who Tris really is and Clarke can’t believe that she didn’t realize it earlier. It was staring at her straight in the face and everything adds together, no wonder that Anya went to so much trouble to make sure that Tris lived.

Anya and Tris were sisters, or related in some way. Tris looked so much like Anya, it was uncanny, it was what she would have imagined a younger version of Anya would have looked like.

Maybe Anya really does care about someone after all.

This could work to Clarke’s advantage, but did she really want to hurt Tris? Especially when she had already caused the girl so much pain.

“Thank you for helping Osla.” Tris says quietly and Clarke can’t but help met her eyes.

Anya’s eyes.

“Do you know her?” Clarke can’t resist from asking, because she wants to know as much as she can about these people.

Tris nods. “She teaches us.”

Clarke frowns at the response. “What does she teach you?”

“Trigedasleng and Gonasleng.” She replies straight away. “She’s our teacher until we become seconds.”

The words are unfamiliar; she knows that Trigedasleng is the language that they speak, but Gonasleng? Did they speak another language as well as English? Or could Gonasleng be English to them? 

“You do not like our ways.” Tris said abruptly, pulling her out of her train of through and Clarke frowns because she knows that Tris can read her well, almost too well and it unnerves Clarke.

Clarke does not disagree she merely shakes her head in response. She’s tired, she didn’t realise how tired she was, until she actually sat down.

Tris didn’t notice at first, she was content to study and watch Clarke, like she was something interesting, but then again Clarke supposed she was something, she recalled the way that the people had stared at her, how they had watched her with cautious and curious eyes. Tris was less obvious but she was still interested.

“We are the way we are for a reason, Klark.” Tris stated, sounding oddly like Anya.

The similarities seemed to be far and few between when it came to these two.

“I’m sure you are.” Clarke concluded, because she was too exhausted to argue with Tris, the last thing she needed was to anger the one of the few people that actually seemed to like her.

“This is how we survive. Onya…she means well. Although sometimes she can come across as ruthless.”

Clarke snorted at that statement, ruthless? Ruthless was an understatement for Anya. She was a monster.

“Anya slaughtered my people, Tris. We were just trying to survive too. Don’t tell me there were no other ways; there are always other ways. We wanted peace.” Clarke explained, willing herself to stay calm.

This was not Tris’s fault. It was Anya’s. It was the Grounders.

The fate of her people had rested on her shoulders and now she might have been the very person that killed them all. There was no certainty that Anya had killed her people or that they had managed to get away that Lincoln had lead them to safety.

“Your people destroyed one of our villages, there were children there too. This was our land.” Tris replied suddenly sounding more emotionally.

“We didn’t mean to hurt anyone, Tris. We just trying to survive just like you and now there gone. There all gone Tris, your people did that, not mine. We were just like you.” Clarke explained remaining as detached as her emotions would allow her.

“I’m sorry.” It’s softer than expected.

Clarke looks up and see’s Tris kneeling down in front her. She takes one of Clarke’s hands in her own and for the first time she realizes how much she cares for Tris. The guilt had caused her to save her life, but she had never given the girl enough credit. She has that look too, the look of too much fighting, too much death. She’s tired of it all too.

“I’m sorry too.”

There just casualties in all of this, just products of war that have been left in the aftermath. This isn’t Tris’s fault.

But she can’t let this go. She had to find her people, dead or alive. But Tris, sweet innocent Tris that hurt. The very Tris who squeezed her hand.

How could she have allowed herself to care for the girl, when she hardly knew her? How could she even think about liking Anya’s sister?

“Anya, is your sister.” It was more of a statement than a question.

The girl practically confirmed it when her eyes widened from where she stood on the ground. She sprang up from where she was kneeling and moved back, suddenly becoming as skittish as a dear.

“It’s ok. I just wondered.” Clarke reassured her, not wanting to frighten the girl anymore.

“You should rest. You’re still healing.” Clarke told her, growing concerned at the pale face of the girl.

 “So are you.” Tris countered back, but did eye Clarke’s bed of furs.

Clarke stood from the bed, carefully not to show her wince. Her wound was bothering her, but she wouldn’t let it show. Tris needed the rest more than what she did. Clarke had survived worse. Clarke pulled back the furs and indicated for Tris to lie down. She hesitated.

“Your safe here. I promise.”

She shed her jacket and shoes and reached over and climbed into the furs and Clarke couldn’t help but smile down at her. Tris was so trusting of her, too trusting at the very least, not that Clarke would ever harm her, but apart from that.

“You should be taking it easy, Tris.” Clarke scolded lightly.

“Anya took me to training, I can’t be weak.” The quiet whisper calls out to her.

“Get some sleep.”

Clarke moved away from her and towards the exit of the hut and found her two guards there. She looked up at them expectedly and tilted her head towards them.

“Where is Anya?”

“The general is busy.” The taller of the two replied, not even acknowledging her.

Clarke sighed, knowing that she would have to do this herself, as she marched away from her hut, the two of them following behind her. She had seen one of the larger huts when she had walked by earlier to get to the medical tent so she went with a hunch.

She knew she was right when one of the larger men grabbed her arm roughly back.

“Enough, Skai girl.” He pulled her violently to the side.

That’s when she snapped, Clarke was fed up of being forced and pushed around by other people. She was angry, in fact she was furious and was grieving the loss of people and finally she had had enough, so she struck him hard. With as much force as she had, she punched in face and he let go of her failing backwards, cursing at her. The other of her guards; shoved her hard and she feel on the ground, but she refused to be beaten and pulled herself up and went for him, fast and hard. She slammed her body into his and they landed hard onto the ground. Clarke’s body was screaming out in protest. She managed to pull herself off of him, but he grabbed her leg and Clarke reached towards a large stone before she was dragged backwards. She managed to spin around, catching herself on something as her jacket ripped. She kicked him hard and he fell back. Clarke was grabbed around the waist and taken off guard.

Her side was throbbing and she felt blood failing from where she had ripped her shirt. Her breath was coming in pants now, when was pushed back onto the ground. Suddenly there was a large amount of pressure on her torso, she blinked a few times through her panting and lifted her fist towards however was lying on her. The grounder caught it in her hand and she was immediately pulled to her feet.

Clarke stopped then when she finally noticed who she had actually been struggling against.

 “Enough.” The sharp voice called out to her.

Anya was staring at her with a fierce look on her face, as were the two other grounders. Clarke lit her shoulders sink back in defeat. She was too tired now. Too exhausted and everything hurt.

“Bring her too me.”

Anya was off stalking away, and Clarke moved behind her slower, keeping as far away from the grounders as she could. At least her mission had been successful.

Clarke followed until she was instead the hut where Anya went.

“Can’t you keep out of trouble? I always seem to find you involved in something.” Anya couldn’t hide the dissaprovel in her tone.

“I wanted to speak with you.” Clarke tried sounding forcefully, but she was failing, her side was throbbing painfully.

“Then speak.”

“You made Tris train!” Clarke exclaimed. “You can’t do that, she’s still recovering!”

Anya made a noise at the back of her throat and she stared Clarke down before returning towards the girl.

“Tris is my second and she must train.”

“She’ll die if you don’t let her recover. Then what would be the point of me saving her? Your being stupid.” Clarke gritted out to her.

Suddenly Anya was in her face, only centimeters away from her.

“Do not tell me what to do. I’m in charge not you. I will take your advice into consideration however, since you are the healer.” Anya spat practically at her.

“You stole me to save her and that’s how you treat her? Some sister you are.” Clarke let her anger get the better of her and accidently said what she didn’t mean to.

Anya took a step forward and Clarke could feel her breath on her, but Clarke refused to back down instead she stood strong.

“Tread carefully with your words Klark or they will get you killed.” Anya told her.

Clarke inhaled sharply. “Is that a threat, General?”

The older women smirked and took a step back and moved away from her.

“View my words as you see fit.” Anya spoke as she looked Clarke up and down.

She continued. “For some reason Tris trusts you, and if you hurt her in anyway. I will rip you limb from limb, until there is nothing left of you. That is a threat, skai girl.”

“My fight isn’t with Tris. You know that.” Clarke told her menacingly.

“Who is it with? My guards? My people? My Heda? Or is it me? You stupid girl. I saved your life so you should have no fight.” Anya snickered looking away from her.

“You never saved me, you’ve sentenced me to a life of being your prisoner. My fight is with you, but you already know that don’t you?” Clarke told her smirking as she watched her face.

“Would you have preferred death?”

The question throws her for a second and Anya is studying her, looking at intently.

“Death is better than this.” 

As soon as the words were out of her mouth, there was a blade against her throat. The cold steel hard against it, instead of showing fear, she stared into Anya’s hard eyes.

“Well if its death that you wish for, I can give that too you.”

Clarke is unwavering as she looks at her. She waits for Anya to do it, because she knows she won’t, Anya needs her and she’s baiting her and the last thing Clarke wants to do is show any sign of weakness for Clarke to take advantage.

Then Anya pulls it back and slides it back into her hip. Clarke nearly jumps when she see’s Anya smile at her.

“You are stupid, but your no fool Klark kom skaikru. You would make a good warrior. But next time you give me orders, your death will come by my hand, weather you wish it or not. This is your life now, accept it.”

Clarke was about to speak when Anya began to call out in her own language. Clarke almost groaned when she was the two familiar looking Grounders. Anya called out instructions to them and Clarke was shuffled out of the hut.

"Klark, fix your wound." Was called out as she left the hut.

She let out the breath that she didn’t know she had been holding.

 

It was decided that Osla’s fifth child was to be named Kalina.

As Clarke held the soft baby in her arms she couldn’t help the regret that simmered inside her, looking down at tiny Kalina. She was wrapped in a thick fur blanket and lay sleepily in her arms. It was a bitter reminder of everything Clarke could never have, because Kalina was precious and Clarke could never have anything as precious as this, not in the world that she lived in and it made her think about the type of life that Kalina would have, raised to be a warrior and eventually become like Tris?

Was that really a life though?

Kalina was far too precious for a world as cruel as this and she felt a great deal of sympathy for the child.

Would she ever really be a child at all?

The thought lingered in her head as she felt Anya’s sharp eyes on her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed!


End file.
